


Dirty Little Itch

by Angelas



Series: Cigarettes and Soda [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Filth, First Time, Jealousy, Language, M/M, Petty Actions, Porn With Plot, Sasuke's dirt talk, Slow Burn, dub-con, gaara being peanut, my feelings, sort of, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8189647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelas/pseuds/Angelas
Summary: It's Naruto's first day of high school. And thanks to Sasuke, first day for a lot of different stuff.





	1. Compathy

**Author's Note:**

> so, somewhere along the line, this happened.
> 
> all beta credit goes to [my love](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian), who helped me get through this whole thing via their brilliance and kindness. ;//^//;♡

**oOo**

It’s fall and all the four trees in the quad have been stripped of their leaves.

A joyless prelude to his first day of freshman year, and of the crowds of people that now feel to encase him, zig-zagging back and forth throughout the hallways with schedules clutched into the occasional pair of quivering hands.

Naruto leans back against the wall of the classroom he’s been assigned. Room thirty-six, fourth-most building on the right. Those nearby shift to form an awkward line. He holsters the straps of his backpack and peeks back, wondering if so many of these hands have been shaking because of the ice-cold air of Yuba’s autumn; or if it’s just that everyone’s anxious, scared, like his grandmother’d teased he would be today before she dropped him off at the corner of campus, moments before managing to kiss both of his cheeks in spite of his squirming.

He thinks he can still feel her sticky pink lipstick stuck to his skin, the feather-touch of her long blonde hair grazing against the side of his face, and feels embarrassed.

He peers to his left to check if someone is looking. Then he wipes away at the spot on his cheek with the back of his sleeve. He brightens immediately, spotting glittery smudges on the orange cuff of his sweater.

The girls behind him giggle.

**oOo**

It’s not so bad thereon. Especially If he steers clear from the juniors and seniors.

As for classes, he finds most of the content semi-familiar, but with the difficulty setting amped up by at least twenty percent.

He’s got lit, then Advisory with Hatake (a tall fair-haired man whom a lot of the younger girls in the class openly fixed on all through prep introductions). Then algebra, followed by CAD in which a cute girl named Sakura sits directly across him at the opposite desk.

Naruto pretends to drop his pencil twice. She smells like strawberries.

**oOo**

Noon strikes.

He’s met Kiba who also happens to chart up on Guild Wars and now they’re lined up together at the lunch line.

“So, what do you think?” Kiba asks.

“Think about what?”

Kiba rolls his eyes. “About Hinata.”

“Oh.” Naruto hums. “Hard to say. Quiet. A little weird?”

Kiba brings a finger to his chin, taps it while he thinks.

“That’s it?”

Naruto sneaks a peek from over Kiba’s shoulder, reassessing. Sure enough, he spots her there, still sitting at the edge of an empty table. She seems to spot him, too. She looks away, but not before her cheeks go red.

“ _Dude,_ ” Naruto whispers. Kiba huddles in. “She’s looking over this way. I think she totally digs you.”

Kiba’s shoulders perk up. He grins. His teeth look extra sharp.

“Knew it.” He pauses. “Think she'd be my girl?”

“I think so.”

The line moves up. They both get pizza and find a place to sit. Three other freshmen amble forth from the crowd and join them. Shika, Shino, Lee.

The table gets crowded. Kiba scoots a bit more, insinuating for Shino to take the space between him and Naruto. They talk, with Kiba doing most of the actual talking. Naruto shrugs. He turns instead towards Lee (whose brows are the thickest he’s seen) and brings up some stuff about frogs while Shikamaru sits there with his palm braced lazily beneath his chin. He sighs. The metal piercings in his ears glinter in the offshoot of the light.

“No way,” says Naruto. “Glass frogs do that, too!”

“True,” says Lee. “But do _pipidaes_ do it?”

Naruto’s eyebrows raise.

“That’s...a really good question.”

They laugh. Shikamaru shakes his head.

**oOo**

Sometime before lunch is done, Naruto gets up for seconds.

He’s almost back at the table by the time he attempts to circle away from a group of older students, but instead bumps into someone. Hard. The milk he’d been carrying slaps to the floor.

“Oh shit,” he sputters. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”

He looks up, to front the person whose skin-tight denims he’s doused, and finds himself staring.

He’s a he. Taller. Probably older, unusually pale. The longer strands of his hair border his face, teased at the back to jag up straight. Black. Like paint.

He looks back at Naruto now, direct, and without expression, as if nothing in particular had happened between them. He doesn’t look mean. But he also doesn’t look nice. Which means, Naruto can’t just laugh and joke it all off.

Seconds pass, feeling like a lifetime. Muffled snickers from all sides, the tail-eyed view of Sakura. But most importantly, Naruto can still feel the eyes of the older students boring holes into the back of his skull.

He swallows, straightening to the full of his height.

“Anyway,” he starts. It’s more a squeak, hot with the shame burning at the tips of his ears. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking.”

He takes the first step, desperate to leave the whole fiasco behind him. But stops when he hears an effortless huff.

 _Dumbass_.

Everyone laughs.

**oOo**

He tries not to think about what happened. It doesn’t work.

And hours later, he can still feel the quiet prickle of humiliation whealing at the bottom of his gut.

He decides not to talk to Kiba about it. But now that classes are over Kiba brings it up, anyway.

“Back there,” he says. “Don’t let it get to ya.” They round the corner of the quad, heading in the direction of the bleachers where a lot of the younger students wait to get picked up. “And if you do, just beat his ass.” He laughs. “Then again, I bet he’d like that.”

Naruto turns, a bit weirded by the last part.

“Do you know him?”

“Nah. But I’ve got him for Physics. Just sits there like a lump, emo-ing away in the corner.” He pauses a moment, stroking through the ruff of an invisible beard. “Strange, though. How during rec all the chicks in the back just flocked around him like he was some sort of landmark.”

“It just sucks so much,” Naruto sighs. “That Sakura was right there looking. And on the first day, too. Must’ve looked like such a wuss.”

Kiba smacks him on the back. “You know, from what I hear, girls can kinda kink that stuff.”

Naruto looks at him again, piqued.

“Yeah, that’s right. I mean, you should _see_ my sister’s boyfriend. Total bruiser type with the Jaguar XK to prove for it, but when he’s around her. He’s just. So whipped, man. Does the dishes, rubs her feet, and everything.”

“But. How is that a bad thing?”

“Exactly. It’s not,” Kiba tells him smartly. “Just gotta find the right chick to do it all for. Know what I mean?”

Naruto grins, cackling a bit.

“Sort of reminds me of my grandparents.”

Now it’s Kiba’s turn to look at him weird.

**oOo**

Half an hour later, Kiba gets picked up.

In fact, by about six o’clock, everyone gets picked up. Except him.

It starts to get dark. And cold. No teachers in the classrooms anymore. Naruto takes out his phone. Fifteen percent.

He hugs into himself, the fabric of his sweater suddenly too thin. He wonders if his grandmother has gone out drinking again. Or if she’s somehow still at work. He decides on sending her another text. His grandfather, too. He waits, knowing that taking the bus at this hour would mean getting his neck wrenched by the time he got home ( _if_ he got home).

This is the reason, he thinks, why he’s been begging for a new car. And at this rate, he opts he’d take _any_ car. Even one of those ancient ones trashed away in the garage.

Breeze picks up. He shivers, brows pinching in. This is no new thing. For as long as he can remember, he’s always been the last one to get picked up from anything.

He swings on his backpack and ditches the bench. He climbs the grandstand, instead, searching for a not-wet place to sit on its topmost bleacher. He settles, gathering his knees for heat. Eventually, his teeth stop clattering. He stares out from under the warmth of his hoodie, counting every car that speeds on by until at last his phone begins to vibrate.

He picks up immediately.

“Gramps?”

“Hey, shrimp.”

Naruto rolls his eyes. “Where the heck are you? I’m totally dying out here!”

“Chill out, beansprout,” Jiraiya tells him. “Or, should I say, chill _in_.”

Crazy laughter, cough, successive choking sound. Naruto waits it out, cringing to himself.

“Anyway, Tsunade can’t make it,” his grandfather tells him. “She, uh. Well, you know how it is on Mondays.” Naruto’s grip on his cellphone tightens. She got drunk, probably passed out. Of course she did. “But! I’ll come get ya after I finish up this tail pipe. At, say. Eight thirty?”

“What? But that’s—” Naruto checks his phone. “Like ten more hours!”

“Alright, alright. Maybe sooner.” It’s almost a coo. “But, hey. Stay up front where I can see you, kid. Never know what you high schoolers are up to at the backs of buildings these days.”

“But—”

Click.

Naruto seethes, dials again. No answer.

He gets up, hands feeling frozen. Needed to go to the bathroom, anyway.

**oOo**

Luckily, the restrooms aren’t locked yet.

He looks at himself in the mirror and pulls down the hood of his sweater, tousling through the bright yellow shock of his hair. Better this way, he thinks. Brings out his eyes. At least, that’s what his grandmother tells him. That it makes it look like how his dad— _her son_ —used to have it.

He washes his hands, tries to remember his parents. But aside from what he’s seen in a handful of photographs and the occasional video recording, can’t do it. If anything, he can vaguely recall the texture of his mother’s fiery hair, the way it tickled his chin, the green clip she always wore pinning it back into place.

He still has it. The clip. Tucked in with her apron and the two other boxes of his father’s favorite Superman comics, all of which are secretly stashed under his bed. Naruto shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about it.

He dries his hands, shoves them in his pockets, and leaves the bathroom.

**oOo**

He makes his way back to the bleachers. But does not make it far, once he catches sight of someone sitting on top of one of the tables in the quad area.

Naruto squints through the fog.

Legs outstretched, back reclined, gazing up at nothing in particular. No jacket, plain tee. Naruto recognizes the skin-tight jeans. He doubletakes, intent on minding his own business.

“I know you’re there,” he says, voice glib. He turns, those same black strands of hair moving along with him. “Dumbass.”

Naruto’s brows pinch in, all seven tiers of insults flashing in his head. Still, the comeback he chooses tuckers out and fizzles someplace on his tongue. He can’t be blamed. Something about the guy’s pitch-dark stare feels a little invasive, even from this far away.

Naruto starts to walk the other way.

“Was just going,” he says, sounding more like a wimp than anything.

A huff, like disappointment.

“Whatever.”

Naruto pauses, thinks, realizing that—maybe, really _maybe_ —he’s just been socially approached. His nerves cool. Back there, in the lunchroom. It could have just been some huge misunderstanding between them, some chummy lark he’d failed to catch on to.

“I mean. Not that I’m in a hurry,” he adds, stepping back (tentative) to where he was. “Are you waiting for someone?”

No response.

“Sorry about earlier,” Naruto tries, with confidence this time. “It was an accident.”

Again, nothing.

Naruto sucks in air, both cold and not knowing what else to say. _Now_ he feels like a dumbass.

“Anyway. Bye, I guess.”

He turns to leave, but then the guy starts to move, swinging his legs from the table and standing.

“Phone’s about to keel. Wanna walk?”

At first, Naruto fumbles with the English language. Whoever he is, he’s come a lot closer, enough for Naruto to be able to catch a whiff of him. He smells nice. In a very different way than Sakura, but nice. Naruto’s grip tightens on the weathered straps of his backpack, compartmentalizing his thoughts.

He nods, casual as possible, knowing full well he’s being stared at.

“Yeah. Sure.”

The guy motions sidelong with his neck—pale and smooth as the rest of him—leading the way towards the outfield of campus. He doesn’t wait up.

Naruto hurries to catch up with him.

**oOo**

They walk the campus for a while, two strict feet away from one another. In silence.

It’s awkward. Especially with the echo of their footsteps, the occasional side-glance that Naruto sometimes dares himself to take. This close, he can sort of understand why girls would kind of like a guy like _him_. The stoic semi-creepy type, just enough to draw in, but not surfeit. Naruto wants to be able to do that, too. Maybe then girls like Ino would start to look his way a whole lot more, instead of guys like Shikamaru.

Slow, Naruto musters up some courage. They pass the biology labs. He clears his throat.

“I’m Naruto,” he says. “And you?”

Side-eye, as if amused by the name. Then,

“Sasuke.”

A whole minute passes.

“So, uh. Sasuke. What’s your favorite food? Mine’s ramen.”

“Never thought about it.”

Naruto nods importantly.

“What’s your first class?”

“Trig.”

”Are you a freshman?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I am.”

“I know.”

Silence. Naruto fiddles with the loose strings of his sweater.

“I thought you hated me at first,” he confesses. “During lunch, calling me a dumbass in front of everyone. But you were just, I don’t know, just spoofing, right?”

Sasuke looks at him again. Naruto doesn’t check, just feels it. Still, Sasuke doesn’t say anything.

“Aren’t you cold?” Naruto asks. “I mean, I’m wearing this thing and I’m still freezing.”

Sasuke shrugs one shoulder. Naruto bites his tongue because _damn that was stupid_ and keeps walking, gazing at his feet while not really knowing what else to bring up. He wracks his brain for more questions, all the while trying not to wear things like excitement on his face. Because Sasuke, he’s cool. Like, is-probably-in-a-band cool. Has a tat on the side of his wrist, and another on the bottom left of his neck, tribal or something. Must’ve been painful. The piercing in his eyebrow, too.

Naruto chews a bit on his cheek. Having _him_ as a friend...introducing him to Kiba and Lee and all the other friends he’s already made—but, best of all, he’d have someone to hang out with after school while he waited.

Naruto straightens.

Surely if Sakura saw him hanging out with someone like Sasuke—

Sasuke stops them. Naruto looks around. They’re at the back of the school, by the janitor’s closet.

“There’s a park nearby, down the block,” Sasuke tells him. “That way.” He points to the dark, if not for a field and a couple of shady-looking houses. “Wanna go?”

Naruto stammers.

“Uh. Well. I told my, um, gramps I’d wait up front, er—be _here_ , and so—”

Sasuke looks at him, a not-so-subtle sneer stretching his lip.

“What. Are you scared?”

“No!” It’s more a shout, a declaration. “I mean, no. Of course I’m not scared.”

“Good,” Sasuke says, already jumping the fence. “Come on, then.”

Naruto goes with him.

**oOo**

Five hours before midnight. A thin film of fog permeates the park, a looming phantom strung an inch above the grass.

It’s cricket-quiet and the sky is naked. No moon, but starlight marking shadows across the nearby parking lot. Sasuke leads them towards a narrow grove, pines of all heights towering from both sides. They stop at one tree in particular, or more like under one. Leaves low, like tear-drops. Naruto looks up. A willow.

“This is so cool,” he says, the sound of his voice blunt in the encompassing silence. “Do you come here often?”

“No,” Sasuke says. “But that depends.”

“On what?”

“Things.”

Naruto looks at him. Sasuke steps closer (perhaps too close), then stops, casually reaching into the back-pocket of his jeans. Bic lighter, pack of Kents. Naruto backs up a bit. Sasuke fleers.

“Figures.” He takes one out, placing it between his lips. “Try it.”

He offers the pack, a single stick jutting neatly from the rest.

“Uh.” Naruto flounders, glancing between the cigarette and the derisive look on Sasuke’s face. He can’t mess this up. He swallows his hesitance. “Okay.”

He stares at it, from tip to paper-filter. Then he puts it in his mouth, feeling like his grandfather would very much strangle him if he ever found out.

“Here,” Sasuke says, breathing out. The smoke twirls from his nose. It looks like cursive.

Naruto dares forward. Sasuke lights his cigarette. He squints, coaxing himself into the idea of testing it out like any other person. He tries his best to inhale, to soothe it in. It's no use. He gags up air. It burns—like gritty hot ash knotting in his trachea—and the taste itself is terrible.

Sasuke watches him amid the fumes.

“Cute,” he says.

Naruto looks up, heat rising to his cheeks.

“Wha-what?”

Now Sasuke snuffs out his cigarette, mashing it beneath his heel. He comes closer—closer than before—until there is only half a foot between them. Naruto stiffens, his back flat against the tree. He thinks it’s one of two things here: that he’s been lured precisely to get his ass beat, or that Sasuke really did just call him cute.

“Are you deaf,” Sasuke says, “or are you stupid?”

Naruto gapes, some toad-like noise escaping him.

“Or maybe you’re both,” Sasuke muses, pressing forward.

All the blood rushes to Naruto’s face in an instant, unsure if the knot in his gut is for fear or for humiliation.

“I think,” Naruto starts. “I think I should get ba—”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No,” he stutters. “I just—”

“Have you fucked?”

The question is simple, the way that it’s asked. Naruto looks up, fish-eyed, the dark bemusement in Sasuke’s eyes as intrusive as the stare he’d given when they were at the quad. Before he can help it, Naruto listens to the scritch of his own sputtering, the hitch caught clear in his breathing, the moment that Sasuke bucks against him a second time.

“No,” he gulps, “not—”

“Sucked?”

“What, _no_ —”

“Huh. Hard to believe,” Sasuke whispers. “But I believe you.”

He thinks about running, about somehow getting his arms to respond so that he could shove Sasuke aside and announce that there has obviously been some awful misunderstanding. That the thickening pressure he feels being jut against his stomach is something that shouldn’t be jut there, that he doesn’t like it, _shouldn’t_ like it, that he likes Sakura, her hips, lips, _women_ —

And Naruto tries to, really does., to reassure himself as much as to say it. But his resolve withers, devolves, once Sasuke caps the remaining distance between them—one white hand jerking his hair to the side, the other pinning his wrist to the trunk of the tree—grinning against the reddened skin of Naruto’s ear.

“I want you,” he murmurs. “Do you want me?”

Naruto’s knees wilt. He swallows, brows weakly knitting. Still, he steels himself to look at least once at Sasuke, into the brand-hot weight of his blackish stare, divulging, at length, the last of his dignity.

“I’m actually,” he breathes, heart thrashing in his ribs, “I’m not—”

“A faggot?”

Sasuke laughs, feather-soft. He smiles, releasing Naruto’s hair in lieu of reaching down between them. He grasps what’s there, firm and with a whorled down-thrust of his palm, asking,

“Is this for me?”

Naruto flags, failing to bite back the fainthearted mewl that forsakes him. The pleasure runs through him at first like a pike, in through his spine and to the gradual lull of his eyes, kindling his cock to pulse and react instantaneously.

“You look good like this,” Sasuke tells him. He leans in, nuzzling the choppy strands of Naruto’s hair. “So good...”

Steady, the swirl of Sasuke's palm quickens. Clockwise and ruthless, until Naruto is liquid against him, distressingly stiff from under his jeans. He bites his lip, chews on it, unable to cohere or to want the need of a protest. He clenches his eyes, whimpers through teeth, feeling it now, slowly and like a landslip of heat, the white-hot twist unraveling in waves inside his pelvis, and knows— _knows_ —he’s nearly there, nearly—

Sasuke pulls away from him.

**oOo**

For a moment of pride-splitting torment, Sasuke simply stands there, watching him.

But then Sasuke tilts his head, setting one smooth hand, blasé, onto the slender crook of his waist.

“Turn around,” he says, and the look he gives is expectant.

Naruto tenses.

He can’t move, can’t talk, can’t—

Sasuke does it for him.

He’s spun the other way, cheek-first against the tree.

“You’re soft,” mutters Sasuke. “Like a chick.”

Slow, Sasuke’s hand snakes into the root of Naruto’s hair, pulling enough to reveal the skin of his neck. No space between them, but the obvious weight of Sasuke’s arousal riding up against Naruto's thigh, pressing a trail of heat until it goes to a parting stop at his ass, gradually stiffening.

To Naruto's horror, a livening tingle runs down his spine. He gasps through teeth, an inglorious puling of breath alongside the not-so-subtle twitch of his dick, the instant that Sasuke leans into him, closing his lips around the vein of his neck before _sucking_.

At first, the sensation is pain.

But then the uncomfort lays, creating a razor-sharp bliss which sends shivers all through Naruto’s body. His mouth parts. Quiet shame, knees bending. Sasuke notices. Must have, because now he is sucking harder with teeth, in towards another patch-full of skin, till at last Naruto’s eyes begin to roll back, the same twist from before beginning to unwrap in his crotch without his cock getting touched.

Sasuke’s free hand moves up, underneath t-shirt and sweater, cold and clever against the naked expanse of Naruto’s torso. It strokes, fondles, tugging in with a force that causes Naruto to curve at the back. Sasuke’s knee presses into the now-open gap of Naruto’s thighs, caressing his cock.

Naruto feels like he’s falling.

The coil gets worse, _better_ , his throat feeling raw with the sounds that he tries to hold back. The thought of what his grandfather would say if he could see him now makes his eyes burn, but the thought of having Sasuke against him—wanting him this way—he realizes, burns even hotter.

Abruptly, Sasuke moves away from his neck, unhanding his hair momentarily. He presents him instead with two of his fingers, slim like a pianist would have them, demanding through cut breath to go ahead and suck them.

Naruto sucks them.

Against all the decency his grandmother taught him, he does. He opens his mouth, clenches his eyes, hyper-aware of Sasuke’s knee still goading him into a petty completion. He’s so close now. Can feel it, thrill like a second heart in his stomach.

“Tell me,” Sasuke whispers. “Do you see it? My cock down your throat, your lips wrapped around it?”

Naruto groans, and it is a sound full of shame that glares in the quiet. Sasuke snakes down his left, away from Naruto’s abdomen, undoing the zipper and button of Naruto’s jeans in one practiced movement. Before he can protest, Sasuke yanks low. The fabric gathers at Naruto’s knees. Underwear, too. The same hand goes to unbuckle Sasuke’s own belt. He slips his fingers from Naruto’s mouth and pistons his hip, allowing Naruto to feel what it is he’d like to do next.

And Naruto knows full well what Sasuke would like to do next.

He stirs against the tree, against Sasuke’s weight, a surge of panic overriding him.

“Tell me that you hate it,” Sasuke tells him. “And maybe I’ll hate it, too.”

Naruto makes a noise, a noise he swears is _yes please I hate it_ , but falters. It results in little less than a snivel that comes out sounding a lot like the opposite.

“Good,” Sasuke mutters.

Something there, stiff and heavy. Naruto feels it almost viscerally, a velvet heft in the shape of Sasuke’s dick coming to a rest against his ass, the still-wet glide of fingertips parting through the crack, alluding gently, at first, the urge to push inside him.

Naruto tautens in an instant, understanding.

He brings up an arm, nips back a gasp, and in the dark of the park, seems more a useless bid at hiding his indignity.

**oOo**

The first finger does not sting.

The second sort of does. And the third is slid through gradual increments.

Naruto chews his lip, cheeks glowing hot. And soon, he finds himself a lot more eager than he’d like. His back arcs, pressing back. That’s when Sasuke starts to really move, in and out and to his knuckles till Sasuke’s wrist feels more a flutter pumping viciously beneath him. Naruto’s mouth falls open, tears resurfacing at the corner of his eyes. His own cock jerks in the aftermath of each thrust, bereft of touch.

“Just say it,” murmurs Sasuke. “Say it like you mean it and I’ll put it in you.”

“I…” he swallows. No use. And for a moment, Naruto thinks he can feel Sasuke’s heart soaring as fast as his own against his shoulder. “I don’t...”

“You don’t what?”

Sasuke grinds forward once, his fingers hooking from inside. They graze something. Naruto yelps, his eyes wide. Sasuke does it again, four more times. And on the fifth, Naruto feels like he really might die.

“Please...” he stammers. “I wa…I want it—”

Sasuke glides his fingers out. He shifts a bit, takes himself in hand.

Naruto closes his eyes, anchors his grasp on the tree, and knows that it’s coming.

**oOo**

At first, it feels like being crammed apart.

Pain, like the skin of his hole might split and bleed at any moment. Sasuke makes a noise—either delighted or impatient—bringing both hands to clasp onto Naruto’s hips, lurching him in.

“Fuck,” he says, voice off-balance. “You feel so good already.”

Naruto’s shoulder hitches, neck ducking in. It might not even be the first inch of cock inside him yet, but already his chest constricts with the knowledge that he is losing his virginity. His thighs close in, back hunching, all in a last-ditch attempt at getting rid of the intrusion. Sasuke doesn’t let it. He uses one hand to take hold of Naruto’s neck, lightly squeezing, before forcing him into a semi-straight position. He leans in (breath as hot as his embrace), his lips mouthing freely.

“Loosen up for me,” he whispers, nipping gently on his neck. “Take it.”

So Naruto takes it. Sasuke, who is so cool and strong. Who _likes_ him. He whimpers, lets it slide inside. Inch by sodden inch, until he is being fucked on repeat with at least half of Sasuke’s cock.

“Do you like it?” Sasuke asks him. “It’s not even all the way in yet.”  

Until it is.

The rest of Sasuke’s cock shoves in, all at once and to the hilt, resting there. The length, in truth, is like a punch to the gut. The girth too wide. Naruto realizes this far too late however, as Sasuke begins to properly fuck him, out and then in, beyond the preparation of just three fingers. He claws at bark. The stretch itself continues much until he is crying out, half sobbing, half begging, his hips attempting to dislodge him.

It doesn’t work. And Sasuke only holds him closer, the winded noise he sometimes makes muffled into the crook of Naruto’s shoulder. Naruto’s balance starts to give off. The pain subsides in mind-numbing waves, loosening his sphincter. He sees stars, listens to the constant, fleshy slap of Sasuke’s hips slamming against his ass, and realizes that a part of him loves it. It’s embarrassing, fucked up, but ever more is the fact that he has been brought to a humiliating hardness, a finger-tap away from reaching climax.

Still, not once does Sasuke stroke him. Nor does Sasuke reach over in an attempt to kiss him. Instead, he tightens his grasp on Naruto’s throat, obstructing his breathing. He glides out to the tip, stays there, catching his breath until lastly he pummels back in, renewing the process. And when minutes after Naruto is full and so sickeningly stretched that even the angle of his own cock is affected, he allows himself the space of a breath to understand that maybe Sasuke doesn’t _really_ like him.

At least, not enough to want to spend time with him. Not enough to want to go to the mall with him... Not enough to come over and study with him, nor be his friend.

The revelation stings more than any sting the penetration has given him. Naruto sinks back, limp, wanting so badly to somehow summon the moxie to _ask_.

He can’t. His thoughts form up nothing, and above it, he is still as hard as he’s ever been in his life. The cold air does nothing to help him. Pre-come oozes, caressing the under-vein of his cock, and despite the empty weight in his chest, he whimpers cheaply in the pleasure of it.

“Ask, then,” Sasuke urges, and his voice is very heavy with arousal. “Tell me that you want to come.”

It is too much too ask. The need is torment, the self-abasement in that he’s been depredated at the back of a park is enormous. Nevertheless... The thrill of doing something so secret. Something dirty, being told that he feels good, that he’s cute. That he’s here with Sasuke, this person who every girl at school wants so much, who smells nice and who in the dark, before this, made him feel protected.

Naruto almost says it, almost _begs_ it—

“I told you to ask,” Sasuke says again, this time breathless. “But I...” He pauses, tone hitching, “Can’t wait anymore.”

With a sound which he once again muzzles into Naruto’s neck, Sasuke pistons back in, seating himself completely. He waits a beat, then he rams back out, his hips beginning to thrust without rhythm. It’s violent, noisy and harsh, but it is also bliss. Naruto bites his cheek. It bleeds. And in the exact moment that his eyes start to roll back, cock twitching, Sasuke gasps and spends inside of him.

His embrace in those few seconds tightens so much that Naruto can hardly breathe. And in that heat and security, Naruto feels like he can finally come.

And he very nearly does, without any touch nor further motion, until suddenly and without warning, Sasuke’s hand goes to grasp him firmly in its grip. He pumps. Once or twice, over the head and to the base, and Naruto’s entire body is helpless not to wire in an instant. He spends, and he spends loudly, marking the tree with his seed.

Quiet. Movement. Time like molasses.

“Naruto,” Sasuke starts. His tone is almost hesitant. “I—”

Manson blares, max volume, snapping reality back like a fist.

“ _Shit_.”

Immediately, Sasuke jostles out his cock and sidesteps, using both hands to pull up his pants. Naruto himself is frozen glass on the tree.

“Shit,” he hisses again, struggling to pull out his phone. He reads the screen, then he looks once at Naruto, saying, “It’s my brother.”

Naruto nods, doesn’t risk a sound.

**oOo**

Sasuke slides his finger across the screen. Naruto watches him quietly, red-faced and in the process of pulling up his underwear.

He listens, and knows that he shouldn’t. But the voice on the opposite line rings crystal clear in the silence.

“Sasuke?”

It’s deep, much older, and also suspicious.

“Yeah, hi,” Sasuke snaps, fumbling now with his buckle.

“Where are you?”

“I’m here,” Sasuke says, though the haste of it all but gives him away. “Took a go down the block. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Be where?”

“Where you are,” he presses. “Where else?”

“I’ve been here ten minutes.”

“I know. Bye.”

Sasuke hangs up, pockets his phone.

“I’ve gotta go.” He doesn’t look at Naruto when he says it, just says it. “I’ll walk you back.” He adds, “If you want me to.”

He takes out a cigarette, lights it, and starts smoking. But what hurts most is that he does it all neatly, as if nothing between them had happened just minutes ago.

Naruto feels the come slipping and then cooling down his left thigh, causing his pants to stick like a stamp to his skin. He didn’t have time to clean it. He feels sore, filthy, and his body feels like it’s been flung at a pile of bricks.

He nods only once, unable to look Sasuke in the eye.

“Okay,” he says, and swings on his backpack.

**oOo**

They walk back.

Three feet away, and do not speak to each other.

**oOo**

It doesn’t take long, once Sasuke’s left, until Jiraiya pulls up at the front of the campus to pick Naruto up. In fact, the convertible sports car that Sasuke had left in passes right by his grandfather’s truck, giving him pass into the parking structure instead of cutting in front.

Naruto watches his grandfather stick out his arm from the side-window, thanking the driver.

Naruto swallows, an untellable knot in his gut. As he is, he is unable to picture how he’ll be able to get in that truck without breaking down enough for his grandfather to easily guess what sort of thing had happened on his first day of class. Not to mention, the very next morning, mid the perlustrating presence of his sobered-up grandmother.

The truck comes to a stop by the curb. As always, his grandfather blares the claxon twice just to annoy him. Naruto walks up to it. He opens the passenger door, takes off his bag, and clambers inside. It hurts, and feels a lot like he’s now sitting on a puddle of guck, once he settles upright. He chews on his tongue, threatens himself if he so much as wears any signs of discomfort.

He inhales, steady and cool, the smell of grease and gasoline allaying the car. The engine revs up, then his grandfather’s hand claps him hard on the back.

“Sorry for the wait, kid,” he says. “But hey, you made it! All grown up, hanging out in the sportsfield and everything.”

Naruto nods, busying himself with his seatbelt. The car starts to move, the radio turned down. Not even two minutes and Naruto can already feel his grandfather’s apprehension solidifying in the silence between them.

“You alright there, shrimp? You look beat.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Just tired.”

“Huh.” They leave the parking lot. His grandfather glances at him, scans him down and up. “How was class? Make any new friends?”

Naruto shrugs, feels his throat clog up. They stop at a red light.

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” says Jiraiya. “Sometimes it takes a while. Just keep doing your thing, sculpt that grin and let the ladies see some confidence.”

Naruto nods. He tries his best to smile. His grandfather reaches out and ruffles through his hair.

“We go home and watch that ghost show you love so much, okay? What was it, with that guy in the trench coat?”

Naruto’s eyes water. He wipes them with his arm, pretending to yawn.

“Okay,” he says.

**oOo**

He doesn’t see Sasuke the next day. A part of him is grateful for it.

Now he’s waiting again, topmost bleacher by the basketball nets, pulling both hands into the warmth of his sleeves.

Five minutes ago, Kiba had gotten picked up by his mom. Now it’s been thirty. It was a lot easier around Kiba. Moreso around Lee. Cracking puns during lunch, sitting next to Sakura in class, staring at her hair, forgetting and pretending. But now no one is there. And just like last time, his grandfather won’t be on his way until at least another hour. All of two nights ago comes tumbling back. Blurred, yet vivid-raw before his vision.

He brings in his knees, hides half his face and slips on his hoodie, wanting so badly to wish away the ache that hadn’t quite eased from his backside. The swollen-blue hickeys on his neck only Shino had noticed. Which is alright, a thing shrugged off without explanation, seeing as Shino does not really seem to care about much outside of chem class and insects.

The bleachers are cold. _He’s_ cold. He wants to go home, to snuggle up next to his grandmother’s chest, following along while she reads out one of her lame mystery novels. He wants ramen, wants middle school to happen again, wants to backtrack and stomp on those moments where he ever even talked to a pervert asshole like Sasu—

“Hey.”

Naruto doesn’t look, doesn’t move. His back stiffens. The gradual creak of the bleachers. Footsteps on steel, unhurried, climbing the benches. Finally, faint heat, the unequal slant of someone heavier sitting next to him. Not too far, not too near.

Silence.

Naruto, with what fist of hatred he conjures, looks in the other direction.

“Do you mind?”

Naruto shrugs one shoulder.

“You look—” Pause. Puff of breath, as if in a hurry to correct a mistake, “I mean, you seem...rested.”

Naruto turns to look at him. Annoyed, indifferent, and for just one second. Still, the glimpse is enough to blooden his cheeks, enough to let him notice that, this time, Sasuke is wearing a long-sleeve. Figure-hugging, tubed to cover the tattoo on his neck.

It’s stupid. _So_ stupid—

Another creak of the bench. The subtle noise of a wrapper.

“Want some?”

Naruto looks.

Gum.

Half an hour later, Sasuke scoots closer.

**oOo**


	2. Dulcinea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, sequel. that i've been working on-and-off for like...two-ish months. but. _finally_.  
>  note, this is now a series. which means...this AU has made a life of its own.
> 
> all thanks goes to my [beloved](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian/pseuds/Vivian) who, without, this whole thing would have likely crashed and burned (also, they are now watching the anime...so. that enthused me. ;-;) anyway, ily♡

**oOo**

Two weeks later, it’s their fourth time.

Out by the park. Same place, racy with the risk of an early sunset still marked in the October sky. They kiss and bite, grind till they’re both gasping, half hard. And when at last Sasuke bucks in and reaches down between them, Naruto shifts and pulls away from him completely.

“I’m…actually feeling kind of sick,” he mutters faintly.

He skids from under Sasuke’s weight, sidestepping away from the tree that kept him. It takes Sasuke a moment to fully understand it.

“And really, it’s kind of cold out here. Don’t you think?”

Sasuke’s eyebrow raises. “It was cold the last time. You never cared.”

“Not this cold.”

“Okay?”

Naruto fidgets. He turns the other way. Annoyed, distracted... Sasuke doesn’t feel like playing therapist. He’s strung, a fuck away from coming. But most of all, he’s itched for this all weekend, counted the hours since first period.

“Bathroom, then,” he says.

“I dunno,” Naruto musters. “Maybe we could just…sit down, talk for a while?”

It’s not a suggestion, just a slap to the face. Sasuke’s lip slants on its own. He shrugs, hand coming to a pause on his hip.

“Don’t really feel like talking.”

For a sec Naruto looks like he’s about to blab some other thing. But then he closes his mouth and swallows it, nods only once before reaching down and swinging on his backpack and jacket.

“Okay.” It’s distant. “Bye, then. I guess.”

He scratches the back of his head and waves before leaving. He looks back three times. It’s awkward. And stupid.

Just like this whole thing had been from the start.

**oOo**

Sasuke texts his brother an hour later,  lying on the damp grass of the park. No response, but Sasuke knows Itachi’s read it, checkmark blunt beneath the text box.

He snuffs his cigarette, swallowing the last of the fumes. It burns. He tosses it, waits. Staring up, blank, at nothing.

 

Itachi there by the gate. Jet black sheen of his car gleaming in the offshoot of the streetlamp. Sasuke scoffs. He stands and begins the trek towards it.

He gets in the passenger's seat, slams the door shut beside him. Radio on, shitty music on near-mute volume, no point to it. He rolls his eyes and clicks on his seatbelt, loafing back onto the headrest.

“What.”

“You were supposed to be on campus.” The tone is deep, detached and sounding almost dead, like every sound Itachi ever makes.

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Sasuke sucks in air. “Bored, walked here. Happy?”

A beat, then Itachi takes the e-brake off of neutral. He backs up, gyring the car with the hilt of his palm onto the asphalt of the road. Sasuke changes the station and turns it up. Riff of Deftones starts to play in the backdrop.

“Give it to me,” Itachi orders out of nowhere.

“Give you what?”

Itachi takes one hand off the steering wheel, extending it towards Sasuke.

“Now.”

Sasuke bucks up and takes out whatever’s left of the Kents. He stares at the box for a moment. He predicts about three or four cigarettes are left inside it. Doesn’t matter. Gas station’s just down the block. He gives them up, flinging the box at Itachi’s chest.

“Mother wouldn’t want this.”

They’re entering the freeway by the time Itachi strips the box and crumples what’s left of cigarettes, mashing till they’re all paper-dust and brownish crumbs inside his fist. He slides down the window, opens his hand, and lets the wind do the rest. Tobacco bits mix with the drizzle, tinged in the air to stain some other person’s windshield. Itachi shifts in his seat and leans forward to turn down the music. His hands on the steering wheel tighten, his shoulders constrict. All off-beam and shit, the same way he gets whenever he brings up their mother.

Sasuke twists in his seat and ignores him, staring out into the pother of the highway.

**oOo**

Some hours, and Sasuke’s splayed out on the livingroom sofa.

More than big enough to fit his height, but the apartment itself (since day one) had always felt like the very real beginnings of entombment. Cramped, intrusive, itch of discomfort creeping through his skin. Like eyes inside the walls, slap of rain too loud on the roofing.

A few feet behind him, the kitchen. One ancient stove, table, sink, and two wooden chairs, one of which Itachi sits in, line of open textbooks laid out in front of him. Constant tapping of his pencil. Sharpen, scribble, silence, erase.

“Ever heard of lead pencils,” Sasuke says. “Maybe pens?” He flips again through the channels. Nothing’s good. Even the cable plan they have is shit. He tosses the remote. It hits his leg. “I’m hungry,” he states.

He stands when his brother doesn’t answer, ditching the tv set. He goes straight to the fridge, shoving it open. He rummages it. Nothing but leftovers. One egg, milk, pack of cherry cokes. He grabs a can and tears the pull tab, quaffing it down.

“It’ll rot your teeth,” Itachi tells him.

Sasuke ignores him. Itachi stands up, going directly to the stove. His hair’s untied, the languor underneath his eyes more obvious than before. How he juggles work hours and graduate school, Sasuke doesn’t care enough to know.

“I’ll make dinner,” Itachi says.

“Just ate.”

“Sit down.”

Sasuke doesn’t sit. Just glares and flings the empty can into the trash bin.

“Fucking dump,” he says. “With all that money from Fugaku’s bequest you’d think we’d be in a fucking mansion by now.”

Itachi doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he heats up the stove and takes out pans, pouring olive oil into one of them.

“Your day,” Itachi mentions. “How was it?”

It’s not an interest, but insouciance. A pat on his head, a roll of the eyes. All Sasuke sees is red.

“You’re fixing on it like it’s all yours. Like you’re handing me scraps, like I couldn’t just sue you for it and get the hell out of this—” Sasuke gestures at the flat, the clutter yet utter emptiness within all four walls. “This _sty_.”

Itachi slams down the box of vermicelli, forearms straining—out, in—from within the cotton of his long-sleeve. From where he is, Sasuke can see Itachi’s jawline clenching, eyelids closing slowly, as if he were desperately pretending none of it was said.

Sasuke dares closer.

“Don’t just stand there. _Do_ something.”

Itachi turns towards him. Taller, but not like before. Still, his eyes weigh Sasuke down, blackish, trenchant, and so much like Mikoto’s. As always, Sasuke feels all verve within him start to wilt, peeling by the second. Shell for shell, immured between nothing and his brother’s presence.

A shiver licks through Sasuke’s spine. Feathers— _soft_ —some unearthed awe he thought he’d capped, covered up in mud. It’s real again. His heartbeat quickens, too much color pooling towards his face. He steps back, swallows. Remembers, _remembers_.

“Nothing stops you” Itachi says.

There is no physical contact between them, yet it feels so much like there is. Like Itachi’s fingers have grazed Sasuke’s forehead again, like their thighs have touched beneath the table, pretending that they hadn’t, like it’s the lonely night before the plane wreck and they’ve slept, tangled limbs on top the blankets, on their parents’ bed.

“Fuck you.”

It’s half a hiss, half the truth, and it’s all Sasuke can muster before storming to his room.

**oOo**

It’s night. Sasuke’s room is pitch dark.

It’s more routine now than intrusiveness, lying there beneath the blankets, wide awake.

He hears Itachi do whatever in the kitchen. Then he listens, step for step, to the scuffing noise Itachi makes upon the carpet whilst he goes to lock himself back into his room.

Not to sleep, Sasuke knows. But to lie there, too. Either jerking off or trying to.

A minute more and Sasuke reaches for his phone. He stares at it a moment. One text from Karin, none from the idiot. He grazes the fake ID he’s got him in and swipes into the two-day talkfest they’d had all throughout the weekend. Something warm flitters in his stomach. Like guilt...or embarrassment.

He turns down the brightness and sinks deeper into the covers. He swallows, thumbing to the top in order to re-read it.

_hey saskay what are you doing?? :D_

_It’s sasuke. nothing. on some game._

_o cool!! which one? Im waitin for my grandma 2 get out of this nail place. soooo boring_

_Warframe. and yeah. that does sound boring._

_nice!! co-op?_

_Yeah._

_ps4 huh?_

_Duh._

_LUCKY. brb a sec, she’s comin back_

Sasuke rolls his eyes. He scrolls down some more, a few minutes before they’d gone to bed that night.

_Your grandparents asleep?_

_ya can hear em snoring all the way from here_

_In your room?_

_ya r u?_

_Yeah._

Two minutes later, _so what r u doin?_

_Thinking about Friday and how much i want to fuck you atm._

_perv….._

_Come over._

_they’ll kill me_

_I’ll go. leave your window open._

_your crazy!!!_

_Call me, then. we’ll fuck on the phone._

_um. thats kinda weird??_

_So, tomorrow?_

_ya(:_

_Can’t wait._

And that’s it.

Sasuke glares at it. Not a peep since then. He’s tempted, fingers dragging towards the touchscreen.

He muddles in some words, misspelled and sounding pretty desperate. Then he flusters, backspaces everything.

And anyway, it’s always been Naruto who’s texted first.

Sometimes more than twice a row, begging for attention. Sasuke this, Sasuke that. Memories come flooding back. Soft, gentle, _tight_. Their first time. The look on his face as he’d slid in and _filled_ him. He feels it swelling up his cock. The sheer memory of having _him_. To himself, just himself. Of having him, and having him and _having him_ —

Sasuke snaps out of it, realizes his hand’s slithered down between his thighs. He takes it away. His cock jounces back, too hard and too wet against his abdomen. He curses through teeth, sits up, looks instead at Karin’s message.

_Hey, mister heart eyes. Spliffy before class? I’ll be out back._

The response comes naturally,

_Roll a spare one._

He locks the phone and flings it back onto the nightstand. Then he stands, undresses, fucking his own fist until he’s coming down his arm.

**oOo**

6am and Sasuke’s dressed in whatever he’s found hanging clean in the middle of his closet.

Then he’s sitting again, half-unconscious, slipping on Docs before thumbing through his phone. Karin’s message there. He wipes his eyes and reads it.

_Morning, dick. I’m there in about 10 minutes. x_

He scoffs (tries to) and shuffles to the bathroom. He puts on some playlist, loud enough to share in Manson with the neighbors. He brushes his teeth, does up his hair. Then he stands there a bit, suspended mid-sleep before smacking himself on the cheek. It wakes him. He turns off the light, the music, and heads for Itachi’s bedroom door.

“Ready,” he says, and kicks it.

A second later, Itachi’s shooting out, fully dressed and with all his books in tow.

 

Sasuke arrives before Karin.

Everything damp, full of mist and still too freezing. It’s worth it. No one’s here. Not until at least another fifteen minutes.

“Man,” calls Karin from somewhere in the distance. “You look vicious.”

She walks his way, clearer now that she’s away from the fog, arms crossed and with a mess of scarves hanging from her neck.

“Did you bring it?”

She goes through her bag, nails sleekly painted, and hands him the blunt. He snags it, slipping it to the corner of his lip. She takes one out for herself, rolled too neat with pinkish paper. Her glossy lipstick stains it. She hunches in, back against the wall, shaking and muttering something about gas prices while searching for a light.

He goes to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and looks out towards the field. It’s habit between them. Ever since they were both a couple of pudgy-faced freshmen eating alone during lunch, still lining up for snack stands and breakfast.

She swings her hair to the side, bringing the flame of the lighter to the tail of her blunt. The gust of her hair makes the air smell like candy shampoo and it lets Sasuke remember the one time he begged his brother to let her come over. Braces at the time, her own Barbie sleeping bag, flashlights they’d snuck from the kitchen in order to stay up and snicker about it all through the night.

Whatever.

He leans towards her. She kindles his blunt.

“Kinda nice,” she hums, sucking up a lungful of smoke. “Stupid birds all confused.” She gestures at the gulls waddling across the football field, exhaling some of the fume through the side of her mouth. “Like it’s Frisco or something.”

She leans her head on his shoulder. And a few moments later, it’s not so cold anymore.

**oOo**

Thirty minutes before first class and the gulls open wing, soaring away by the pack. Signs of sun, like clouded watercolors leached across the tired sky. Ball courts crowding up, too many people now on campus.

Sasuke unzips his jacket. His head feels hot, but the kind of hot that feels nice. And really, this high’s better than the last one. He forgets and then he remembers, too amused by Karin’s pornish puns. His body feels light, like he could walk forward and instead glide up, like he can listen to the unfamiliar sounds of his laugh, like he could reach out his arm, curl in his fingers, and watch them just—

“Man, you sound like a nut. Your left one.”

Apparently, he laughs at that, too.

“Hey look.” Karin points forward. “Kinda cute, don’t you think? With the hair.”

Sasuke stops laughing. It’s Naruto. Shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning and sharing in a box of sour drops with some red-headed gremlin.

Sasuke frowns. His arms cross on their own. Karin notices. She nudges his shoulder.

“To think he’d rebound you already,” she winks. “Kid’s got game.”

“Like I care,” he says.

“I mean, you’d think he’d wanna share those drops with you.” She slips a strip of gum to her mouth. Chuckles, “Or I dunno, _notice_ you. After all that dicking between you.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughs. “Sheesh. Just hand me my bag.”

He bends down and hands it to her. She hauls it over her shoulder, digs deep for her phone and uses the screen to repaint her lips. Naruto’s still out there in the distance, squawking about videogames and ramen, kid beside him sneaking glances like he’s got a boner jizzing through his jeans.

It’s an ugly knot that starts to stick to the pith of Sasuke’s stomach. Like he could punch a brick and never feel it, like there’s an ache between his gums, his teeth drawn back and _pressing_ —

The bell rings.

Karin reaches over and dusts some ash from off his collar, spraying him all over with her Flowerbomb perfume. She stands in front of him, single finger on her chin, and pouts.

“There’s no way Hatake won’t call you out.”

Sasuke shrugs one shoulder. “Let him.”

He shoves from the wall, and for the first time in months, leaves for class without her.

**oOo**

Sasuke walks inside. He’s late. The door slugs shut, and the entire class stops in turning pages just to gawk at him.

Hatake caps the whiteboard marker he’d been graphing subsets with. He turns, back against the board, patient in allowing Sasuke to figure out an empty seat.

Sasuke shuffles over to the back, nearly trips. He snorts a laugh, slithers out a desk, slams off his bag, and lets himself fall onto the chair. Time spreads, time stops. His eyelids feel heavy. He leans his head against the wall, blinks, and realizes he is starving.

“Sasuke.”

“What.”

Some girls giggle from up front.

“In my class, we sit up.”

Sasuke sits up.

“Take out your textbook.”

Sasuke takes out his textbook.

“Page 98.”

Page 98.

Kakashi smiles. “Great. Now, you may go to the office.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. At least, he thinks he does. He stands, scuffles to the front, and goes in the direction of the office.

**oOo**

Unfortunately, no expulsion.

Rather, Hiruzen rambles on an hour (self-worth and probity), before handing him over to Itachi who now swings open the door to his car till the hinge of it nearly shatters loose.

“Get in.”

Sasuke gets in. Itachi follows suit, revving the car alive with a rigid twist of the keys.

They don’t talk. Air thick, windows shut, so quiet the cold air starts to feel hot. Sasuke stares forward. Itachi sits up, shifting his arm back and forth on the wheel, mouth a tight line. Red light, green light. He steps on the pedal.

“This is the last time,” he says.

Sasuke huffs. “Okay?”

Silence.

“Never asked you to skulk out of class to come get me.”

Nothing.

Sasuke laughs. “Should’ve just left me.” He raises his tone by a notch. “Should’ve gotten a grip on your ugly friend’s hard-on and laid off my case, gotten a hobby or somethi—”

Itachi skids off the road, half up a neighborhood sidewalk. The wheels make a horrible sound. Two dudes with their fat orange dogs down the block step back and stare at the noise.

“This is the _last_ time.”

It’s a snarl, full of teeth, sharp enough to lift the little hairs on Sasuke’s skin. The world compresses. He’s five again. He’s got a pink doll in his hand, toy phone in the other. He’s watching his father from behind the crinkled hem of Saturday’s newspaper. He’s putting the doll to his cheek, toy phone to his ear, then he’s watching his father slam the newspaper down, _scowling_ at him. He’s watching his mother’s long fingers caress through Itachi’s black hair. He’s watching her bend down and press a long kiss to his lip. He’s touching his own lip (he wants it kissed, too); still looking down, still too afraid and always too soft and too open.

Itachi backs the car up. The tires jolt off of the sidewalk. He leans forward, cranks the radio on.

“I’ll make breakfast.”

Sasuke says nothing.

**oOo**

Dusk.

Sasuke’s at the dinner table and Itachi’s laying out plates. Eggs, salad, hash, two mugs of buttermilk coffee. He puts down some silverware, then he sits down. The chair creaks beneath him. It’s quiet now. They must look ridiculous, perched around a too-tiny table, their legs drawn taut in an active attempt at not touching.

Sasuke eyes up the food. It’s steaming. The eggs are perfect and the salad glisters wet with ranch and red garnish. He picks up his fork, serves himself by the clumpful, and starts eating. Itachi just sits there.

“It’s good,” says Sasuke. He swallows, sips on the coffee.

Itachi brings his hands to the table and wraps them around his own mug. He doesn’t say anything. Sasuke slumps back, mealing a mouthful before slinging his fork to the side. He taps on the table.

“I’ve left the laundry drying downstairs,” mutters Itachi. It’s effete. He looks only at the steam of his coffee. He raises the mug to his lips, drinks, places it down again. His lip glistens, glazed wet with cream. A strand of hair unhooks from his ear. It slips down his shoulder, long enough now to rival their mother’s.

Sasuke looks away.

“Twenty more minutes,” Itachi goes on. “Dryer on the farthest right, separate baskets.”

Itachi stands up. He leaves the mug on the table, as well as the rest of his food.

“I’ll be out.”

He slides in his chair. Then he turns on his heel and disappears into the hallway.

“Bet you can’t wait,” Sasuke calls after him. “Maybe this time he’ll even admit that he’s married.”

Nothing.

Sasuke sits there a moment, tense with contention. Then he picks up his fork, leans over his plate, and forces himself not to look when his brother leaves the apartment.

 

He’s on Thief for a while. Then he shuts off the console, decides that he’s bored.

He lies in bed, on top of the covers, slapping his phone on his chest for no reason. He counts the dots on the ceiling. No sounds. The window is open, the lights are all off. He doesn’t feel tired. Time passes. His phone never vibrates. His thoughts drift and always they come up with Naruto. He thinks of sitting beside him, thinks of going out somewhere together, hearing him talk, watching him talk, kissing and fucking. Then Sasuke thinks of the coon-looking imp Naruto’d been with all morning.

Sasuke doesn’t think twice. And in the black of the dark, he swipes and inspects through his phone. No text from him since Sunday, no calls. He finds and goes through Naruto’s Instagram, and sees that he’s posted just a few minutes earlier. _Thrice_.

Sasuke sits up, a bone-tightening sting like a blow to his gut—

His phone vibrates. His heart skips a beat. He unlocks it without even seeing.

_I heard about what happened. ):_

He lets out a breath. Just Karin. He stands, pacing with his fingers all over the screen.

_Yeah. it’s bullshit._

Her response takes a minute.

_Did you finally get your ass beat?_

_Very funny._

_What are you doing?_

_Nothing. you?_

_Waiting on my girl(:_

He rolls his eyes. She sends him another.

_Jfc just call him already._

His fingers hover over the keys. He starts to respond, but before he can send it,

_I’ve gotta go hon. Good luck. xx_

He backspaces, feels stupid. He sits again, staring at the screen. The silence of the room stopples his ears. Exactly three conversation threads stare back at him.

Karin, Naruto, Itachi.

 

An hour till midnight. Sasuke takes a deep breath. He swallows, stands by the cool air of the half-open window, and dials the number. He puts it on speaker. It rings. His face goes hot in an instant, dread like bugs in his skin.

Once, twice. He caves. Curses, cuts off the call and regrets it.

Seconds later, a text.

_hey!! you called?_

He stares at it and his heart goes crazy. Gall twists his stomach. His brows knit. He glares. He’s not even blitzed yet the whole world feels stretched out before him, dependant on just this one moment. As if he were standing on the cusp of some cliff, stone of it breaking. He taps on the screen.

_It was an accident._

He doesn’t have to wait long.

_o… well wats up?_

_Nothing._

_same_

Sasuke’s eye twitches. He shoves off the wall and tosses the phone on the bed. Then,

_im calling you back!!_

The ringtone starts to blare. Sasuke lets it play.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Yeah.”

Quiet.

Naruto clears his throat. “Um. What’s up?”

“You already asked that.”

He laughs. “Oh yeah. I did.” Adds, “Anyway...I’m just—”

“Who’s your friend?”

Pause. “Friend?”

“Yeah. Friend.”

“Kiba? Oh! You mean Gaara?”

Sasuke doesn’t say anything.

“Uh, well. He’s in my gym class. He’s into all sorts of cool stuff like—”

“I don’t care.”

The line goes stiff.

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

They both know what he means. He hears Naruto start to fiddle with something.

“There’s a dance,” Sasuke mentions. “Six till nine. Meet me at four and we’ll have five hours.”

Naruto stutters. “I’ll...have to ask my grandparents first.”

“Then ask.”

“Okay, yeah. Hold on a sec.”

He hears Naruto scamper out of his room, yelling out his grandfather’s name. Sasuke waits with his back against the wall. His foot taps the carpet.

Steps, door being closed, then,

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Yeah.”

“They said I can go.”

Sasuke tries to fight the thrill from his voice. He clears his throat. It doesn’t work.

“Four, then?”

“Yeah, four.” There’s a grin in Naruto’s tone.

Silence, static.

“Uh. I should go to bed. Brother might get home.”

Naruto trips to agree. Still, neither of them hang up the phone.

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Yeah?”

This quiet, he can hear Naruto’s breathing. He thinks, Naruto can hear his breathing, too.

“Goodnight...” It’s a whisper.

The call drops a second after.

**oOo**

Last class passes quickly.

Sasuke rounds the school and hops the fence. It’s a fifteen minute walk to the park. He’s there in ten.

He stops at the willow. The sky is clear, powder-grey with notes of sun. Leaves litter upon the grass, hills of them beneath the tallest pines.

He zips his hoodie, staring out into the distance of the grove.

No sign of him.

Time sheds. Twenty minutes, thirty. The sunlight dims. Birds withdraw, burrowing to nest within the trees. The sky cracks. It starts to drizzle.

Finally, Sasuke lets himself look at the lockscreen of his phone. 4:50.

His brow furrows, sour taste like an open bruise inside his mouth. He pockets his phone, spits out his gum, and makes the walk back to campus.

 

He cuts through the staff parking lot. All the gates are open because of the dance. He goes through the one that leads to the sports field. A large group of girls there, huddled for selfies, made-up and dressed up. One of them winds a finger into a loop of her hair and greets him by name, another blows him a kiss. They laugh. He doesn’t stop walking.

He’s at the back of the schoolrooms by the time he slows down. To his right, the football field in all of its size, abandoned if not for two people.

He stops. A cold drop of rain slips from his hair to his face. His arms start to feel heavy. Naruto there, sat in the middle of the field, cross-legged and facing the boy from before, not a foot from another. Both of them nervous, both of them twiddling glances like gradeschoolers do, plucking out strands of wet grass as they talk back and forth. Naruto giggles. And when Naruto giggles, Gaara does, too.

Sasuke’s vision distorts. Rawness carves through his gut, abrading his throat.

He swallows, blinks. Both things are difficult.

Colors heighten, colors flatten. He licks his lips, shakes his head. Then he looks away, walks away, and realizes he is laughing.

**oOo**

He’s at the quad when it really starts to pour, heavy enough to ruin his two-bit plan of trailing a trip to nowhere.

Couples ditch the benches and go to crowd the nearby halls, milling around the entrance of the gym. Finally, the doors are opened. Music starts to blast. Sasuke glares. More than eighty people beetling out from all crevices of campus, yapping and shouting. He gets out of the rain, unzips and peels off his jacket. That’s when he sees it. Not too far to his left, the very last few from the long line of students, a small group of freshmen girls clustered close to another. One in particular, Sasuke thinks he recognizes. Four inch heels, bright pink hair, vintage dress and cardigan. One of them chides her by name. Sakura.

“I can’t believe you told him no!” the girl shrieks. The others nod their heads in agreement. “He was so sweet about it, too.”

“Do you still have the note that he passed you?”

“His eyes, though!”

“I bet he’s beaten up about it.” says another. “It looked like he really wanted you to let him take you.”

“Oh come on you guys,” Sakura says. She rubs her arm, gnawing on her lip. “Naruto’s like an inch shorter than me and...I dunno, he could be my nephew or something.”

“Ugh, don’t say that!”

“ _Guys_ ,” one of them hisses. They all huddle in. “Look.”

Sasuke doesn’t have to check to know that they’re pointing at him.

Sakura sneaks glances his way, pretending to seem like she isn’t. The line moves up. The girls are next. Something ugly starts to coil at the corner of Sasuke’s lip. He shoves from the wall and approaches.

“Hey,” he says.

It’s clear who it’s for. The rest of the girls take a step back, bunching up behind Sakura. A few of them chuckle, pushing her forward. He can smell her perfume. He looks at her, looms over her. His shadow darkens her dress.

“Hi,” she peeps.

Her hands fiddle, her ears are beet red.

“Sakura, right?”

She nods, unable to look him in the eye.

“Do you want to come inside with me?”

Her gaze rises up to meet his. Her arms fold, fingers struggling to hook a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I…” She swallows. He lets his eyes flicker towards her chest, making certain that she’ll notice. She swallows again. “I’d love to, Sasuke.”

He should be surprised, hearing his name. He isn’t. He turns on his heel, facing the ticket handlers sat at the other side of the table.

“Single or couple?”

He unrolls a bill and pays for the latter.

 

They go in.

Her friends bicker around her amid the ground-pounding chaos of whatever deejay Hiruzen’d hired. He can’t hear them, doesn’t care to. He just stands there, flanked by a swarm of half-baked high schoolers.

At one point, the group of girls huff out and leave, disappearing into the smoke and lights of the dancefloor. Sakura stays at his side, quiet while clutching her arm until finally he shoves through a crowd to get to some of the empty chairs set against the opposite wall. He sits. She sits down, too, scooting closer to him so that their hips nearly touch.

Aversion knots in his gut. He can see nothing but her constantly glancing at him from the crook of his eye, can see nothing but a wide open field, the empty grove he’d stared at for more than an hour, expecting the same stupid jacket he’d memorized the smell and the feeling of to emerge at any moment, the pathetic flutter in his stomach he’d held all the while _thinking_ that it would, thinking that somehow Naruto would waltz along and perhaps walk a little quicker just to be together that much faster, to _react_ to the sight of him, because Sasuke, he would be reacting to the sight of Naruto, _too_ —

“Sasuke?”

He doesn’t look at her.

“Would you…” She clears her throat. “Want to maybe dance with—”

He stands.

“I need some air.”

She stands, as well, as if he’d bid her to.

“I’ll go with you.”

He doesn’t tell her not to, just throws his jacket over his shoulder and walks out.

 

The rain has stopped, leaving the concrete wet with mud and draggled water. The downspouts drip, overflooded. Worms squirm on the floor, tearing apart against the gravel.

They’re at the back of the school, by the janitor’s closet. It’s the blue hour and the sky has closed in against the blackish dusk, half and half, mouthing on it like the firth of an ocean.

Sasuke stares up at it, and the more he does, the more he feels as if he were watching the eyes of someone familiar, and _hates_ himself for it.

He digs in his backpockets, last ditch attempt at chancing up a smoke. He finds one, just one, crumpled badly at the filter.

He smooths it out. He feels Sakura watching him, back against the wall, heeled foot tracing nervous circles on the floor.

“Do you have another?” It’s determined, though it wouldn’t take a genius to realize she does not mean it.

“No.”

He puts the cigarette to his lips. No lighter.

“I’m sorry,” she says right after. “I don’t know, if I did or said something stupid to upset you.”

He shrugs one shoulder.

She looks away from him, hair unwinding from her ear. “Do you want me to leave?”

He scoffs, quiet enough for only him to hear. “Do you?”

She shakes her head.

Silence.

A bunch of guys walk by, looking stoned out their minds. Sasuke approaches one of them and asks for a lighter. The guy has one. He whips it out, kindling his cigarette.

“Get some, g,” one of the other guys say. He fucks the side of his mouth with his tongue, pointing out at Sakura. Another agrees.

Sasuke stands there a moment, puffing smoke through his nose till they all hop the fence and leave.

 

He finishes the cigarette and flicks what’s left into a puddle. No sign of anyone. The sky has gone dark. The air is cold.

Sasuke thumbs a look through his phone. No message, no apology, nothing. He thrusts it back into his pocket.

“You know Naruto?”

Sakura answers quickly. “Yeah, I know him.”

“He likes you,” he says. “Do you like him?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Of course I don’t like him.” She adds, “He’s so clingy and obnoxious.”

Sasuke doesn’t think when he does it. He shoves off the wall, stands in front of her and presses her against the brick with his body. She tenses and heats up against him. He cups her breast in his hand, kneading firmly. She murmurs his name, face blooded red, and does not stop him the moment he glides the same hand down and under the skirts of her dress.

She mewls in his ear. Then she swans her arms around his neck, breathing loud in his hair. He allows it. And with two fingers he hooks aside her underwear and sinks knuckle-deep, out, in, until she clenches in and pulsates.

 

He moves from her, two steps back.

Then he makes an excuse, leaving her there with the rest of the silence.

**oOo**

Next day, during passing period, Sasuke spots Sakura trudging towards him from the opposite side of the hallway.

She’s surrounded again by the same group of girls (few of them now who are glaring at him). They bustle her forward. She hides half her face with the rim of her textbook the more she comes closer, peeking at him as if he were to suddenly reach out and twirl her for all to stand back and see.

The hall’s pretty jam-packed, so he spares her only one glance and keeps walking. Some steps behind her he sees only vaguely that Naruto’s there, side-by-side again with Sasuke’s very own kindergoth stand-in. Kohl around the eyes, probably a twink, sticking to Naruto’s side as if the fate of mankind depended on it.

A sour taste laves Sasuke’s mouth. They’re nearer now. Sakura waves at him, Sasuke ignores it. He passes her by, inches apart, and a moment after passes Naruto by, as well. He shoves against Naruto’s shoulder, hard enough for him to nearly trip and really _feel_ it, before walking directly into fifth period.

 

It stops to sting less when he does not mull on it. 

It’s after school. The sky is grey. He’s in the quad with Karin, needing to wash his hands and take a piss.

“Staying?” she asks him.

She tosses her purse over to the opposite shoulder, frowning at it. He doesn’t blame her. Thing looks like it’s got weights.

He shrugs, snapping gum between his teeth. She gives him an irritated squint.

“When are you gonna start, I dunno, using _words_? Did your dick fall off? Did something happen?”

“No,” he tells her.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, flipping her hair to the side while she's at it.

“Want me to give you a ride? Might storm.”

“It’s fine.”

She sighs and readjusts her glasses.

“Okay,” she folds. “Just...call me if you need anything.”

They look at each other for a moment. Like this, it’s easy to forget how much shorter she is. She reaches out a second after, drags him down with an arm hooked around his neck, and hugs him. It’s forceful, decisive. Just like she is. She lets go, winds her purple kilim scarf about her and starts to walk the other way.

“Karin.”

She looks back at him.

“Drive safe.”

She grins. Then she flips him off and sashays to where her car is.

**oOo**

He goes to the bathroom. Finishes, and soaps his hands in the sink. The mirror in front of him, too close and too clean.

He draws down the faucet, stares at his face. His hand goes up to it. The distinct line of his jaw, his lips, the bone of his cheek.

A single finger down the length of his hair. It parts, soft. Then, the door batters open.

Sasuke doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.

“I know what you did,” is the first thing Naruto says. His tone is sharper than Sasuke’s heard it, grit through teeth and spat with outrage.

Sasuke looks down into the sink, the sud built up against the drain. The door slams shut, the worn out buzzing of the ceiling light above them. Still, Sasuke doesn’t say a thing. He hears Naruto stomp closer from behind him.

“She really liked you,” Naruto continues. “You hurt her, you made her feel like trash in front of everyone—” He holds back, deeper details he might know more of. “You _led_ her on—”

Sasuke pivots on his heel to front him.

“Did she talk to you for the first time just to tell you that? Or did you eavesdrop on something that is obviously none of your business?”

Naruto stiffens. Pink in the face, his fists bunched up and shaking. Sasuke wants to laugh.

“Lighten up,” he gibes. “Maybe next time she’ll even consider you a person.”

He makes to leave, but stops as Naruto starts to speak up from behind him.

“I can’t…” It’s faint at first, then it’s poignant. “I can’t believe I had feelings for an asshole like you.”

A sudden shock, pressure in his chest. Sasuke’s neck goes rigid, veins within his wrists distend. He turns around. Naruto there, looking straight at him, unafraid and a lot surer than before.

Sasuke wants to say something, evince for something, tries to think of something. His throat gelates; nothing spills.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. I should’ve never—”

Now, Sasuke throttles forward. No thought, just whim, some untellable urgency alighting in his bones, as if his body had deceived him, conducted on its own. He shoves Naruto against the wall, pinning him there, his forearm dug against his neck and _pressing_.

“Shut up,” Sasuke snarls. “Just _shut up_ —”

Naruto does not back down. He squirms against him, all clenched teeth and roiled brows.

“Let go, bastard,” he grits, “let go or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” Sasuke spits. “You’ll whimper and scream?” He laughs. “Or has it always been titular? So that you can run back the next time _Gaara_ doesn’t feel like bending over?”

Pain at his cheek. Sasuke stumbles back, single rill of blood reddening his fingertips.

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

It’s shrill, uneven. Sasuke’s eyes raise up to look at him. No fairer than before. Standing there, shoulders heaving up and down, red at the ears, at the cheeks, _his mouth_ , the blue of his eyes gone ten times bluer. Just... _maddening_.

Sasuke sneers, whipping blood to the floor with a flit of his wrist.

“You did, didn’t you.”

Half of Naruto’s face softens, the other half frosts. Then his gaze starts to drop, the rage of him subsiding. Like guilt, like searching for a half-truth carved into the tile, but no less _guilt_.

There’s nothing left to say. Sasuke wipes his mouth and begins to walk away.

Naruto grasps him backwards by the shoulder.

“Sasuke,” he says.

It’s tender. Sasuke feels it in his chest, lick of flame above cold water, this utter need to consume the soothing sound of it.

Naruto’s hand slides then to his wrist. Ghosting, touching, fingers pressing gently near the veins. Sasuke turns enough to look at it. Their skin, so close. Different, yet the same.

 

Sasuke clasps him by the arm and reels him in. Naruto freezes up, fish-eyed and infuriating.

“Fucking dimwit,” Sasuke says, so low it’s almost secret. “Moron, fucking…”

He can’t finish. He leans in, catching Naruto by the lips.

It’s hectic, sloppy, and as desperate as it’d been the first time that they’d kissed. Naruto doesn’t squick from him, doesn’t wrench from him, nor does he try to slow him down. Sasuke walks him backward, his tongue sliding in, tracing teeth, the silkish inner-lining of his cheek. It’s sweet, like nothing and the taste of him exactly. Sasuke breathes, then swallows, paused only by Naruto’s back having met with the wall of one of the empty stalls. Sasuke pulls away, leaving smaller, quicker nips behind before reaching back enough to shut the flimsy door and lock the both of them inside.

He strides right back, hands quick to snag Naruto by the hips, shoving him in so that the outline of their cocks may press together firmly. They’re kissing again, seconds, minutes, except this time Naruto touches him, too, fingers skimming lightly at the base of Sasuke’s spine, toying into the fabric of his shirt.

The sensation is voltaic, so fierce that Sasuke’s own cock hardens in an instant. He pulls away, out of breath and staring.

“Naruto…”

He thinks he can hear his voice crack when he says it. Naruto looks at him, doe-eyed, wheat-haired, _pretty_ —

Sasuke sinks down to his knees.

 

No belt. Sasuke undoes his jeans, yanking down. Naruto’s cock jounces free, an inch from his nose. It’s wet at the head, heavy.

Sasuke licks his lip, leaning in, gazing up to drink the sight of being seen.

“Sa...Sasuke,” Naruto starts, back infixed into the wall, “what—”

“Are you embarrassed?” Sasuke asks. He grips him by the base of his cock, tonguing catlike on the frenulum.

“W-what?” It’s more a squeak. He brightens all the more, knuckles hovering just above his chin. He clears his throat, “Of course I’m not embar—” Sasuke mouths on him again. “Just...s-some— _ah_ —someone could walk in and—”

“What, hear?”

Sasuke licks on him again, hilt to head and loudly. Naruto shuts his eyes, groans, then opens them, pretending to want to look the other away. Sasuke spreads his own legs, unbuckling his belt. He stuffs down his hand, grasps himself, tugging his cock against his abdomen ere rubbing on the bulge. He sinks his head in, sat upon his flanks, flattening his tongue so that he may fuck his mouth with more.

Naruto stiffens up against him. Sasuke nestles closer, cheek against his thigh. He purrs, suckling his cock into the spasm of his pharynx.

“Fuck _, Sasuke_ —”

Sasuke swallows, glut with drool. Whatever Naruto had in mind, burbles out and dwindles.

It’s method thereon. Sasuke takes him to the hilt, fucking himself, down, slow, again, before blinking clear his vision. He looks up, urging Naruto to watch him _watching_ him. Naruto does, flush-faced. Sasuke brings up his left, fondling Naruto’s balls before gulping on his heft.

Naruto hunches over him—clenched fist, noisy—and to Sasuke’s amusement, losing it enough to piston his hip without thinking, forcing Sasuke to retch and to choke on him messily.

Sasuke glides his mouth off, heaving for air. Spit slicks his chin. There’s tears in his eyelids. He allows them to shed.

Naruto’s eyes go wide, but before he can squawk for amends, Sasuke grasps him by the cock. He opens his mouth, slapping the cockhead several times on his tongue. Pre-come oozes, drop for drop.

“Sa-Sasuke...fuck, your mouth...so wet, I’ll never last—”

“Don’t last.”

“Does it…” Naruto stammers. He swallows, “does it hurt you when it—?”

“No,” Sasuke lies.

It’s impatience, but permission for the both of them enough. Naruto’s hand looms over Sasuke’s head at first, tentative, shy, but then it closes in, fingers clenching into the shorter strands of Sasuke’s nape. He tugs by the root, twisting. Sasuke shivers, thrill a second heartbeat in his prick.

He slackens his mouth, allowing Naruto to guide him. And guide him he does. He shoves inside, prying Sasuke’s throat apart. Once, twice. Sasuke shuts his eyes. Tears there, amassing from the sting of it. Except this time, Naruto does not stop.

Sasuke’s body clenches. Cock too full, balls untouched. He lets it happen, goads to happen, swallows greedily whenever he catches breath enough to gasp. He yanks his jeans, his cock juts free. He rolls his palm on it, coating himself in fluid before fucking up into his fist.

Finally, Naruto hitches, hushered curses starred into his breathing. Some dude opens the door to the restroom right that moment. Some steps in. Silence; then the guy hurries out and leaves.

Sasuke’s kept in place throughout it. The door falls shut. Immediately, the cock in him starts to fatten, then twitch, then the sudden, viscid weight of semen pouring down his throat, gagging him entirely.

Naruto groans, unhanding Sasuke’s hair. Sasuke caroms off of him, falling back onto his ass, coughing up in sticky drops what his stomach did not take.

He starts to stand, swallowing and swallowing until the chafe obtunds. Naruto is on him in an instant.

“Sasuke,” he rasps, “Are you—”

Sasuke gets to his feet, refusing Naruto’s hand.

“Idiot,” he hums. “I could drink on you all night.”

He rams Naruto forward by the shirt, pressing his own back against the wall, and stamps their mouths together.

It’s not long until Naruto’s hands start to wander. Down beneath Sasuke’s shirt, palming the outthrust of his abs, ghosting the trimmed thatch of hairs lying just an inch beneath that. Sasuke tugs him closer, urging Naruto to taste himself, too. He does, his face glowing hot, the frantic smacking of their tongues resounding in the bathroom.

Naruto pulls away a moment, breath warm on Sasuke’s cheek. Sasuke swallows in each huff, staring. Their eyes meet, day and night. Naruto’s free hand fists him by the prick, rousing his erection.

“ _Shit_ ,” Sasuke breathes.

Naruto starts to pump him. Slow, steady. Sasuke’s neck flags, his balls contracting. He hunches in, nestling his face into the crook of Naruto’s shoulder. He suckles on the skin, groaning softly. Naruto doesn’t let up. His thumb presses into the slit of Sasuke’s cock, dipping gently. Then his palm dandles directly on the vein, down and up, _again_ , milking the initials of a violent orgasm. Stars fog half of Sasuke’s vision, his eyes needing to roll back, no air, his lungs so raw with _want_ —

“Fuck, Naruto,” he hushers, “it feels so _good..._ ”

Hitch of breath, like fuel to fire. Naruto jerks him faster, tighter. Sasuke hears himself begin to mewl.

“It’s too bad,” he murmurs, half stammers, “I love your ass— _hng_ —how you feel inside, right after you come—”

A moment more, and his cock fattens fully. The world stops spinning. Subtle burst of light, electric, then ropes of come pour into Naruto’s palm, down his wrist, blot of it pooling to the tiled floor beneath them. All Sasuke sees is white, forcible sensation, his body set alight with each flutter of fulfilment.

In time, Sasuke’s vision starts to focus. Naruto doesn’t pull away. He stays there, both hands clutching Sasuke’s waist.

He’s shorter, yes. But he’s also that much staggering. It doesn’t matter, only thing that matters...like this, the two of them. It matters...this stupid thing from the beginning. All the things between it, suspended into the little spaces of his name.

“Naruto…”

It’s muffled, told into the fabric of Naruto’s black and orange jacket. Sasuke grabs on it, fingers squeezing on the cotton.

**oOo**

Dusk. Demilune, black sky and even whiter stars.

They’re laid out on the grass, their arms a paper’s breadth from touching. The willow above them sheds its leaves, stirred loose by autumn’s breeze. Naruto giggles dumbly when one lands on Sasuke’s cheek.

Sasuke leaves it there, gaze fixed above. Naruto reaches out, plucks the leaf from Sasuke's face, grazing his nose with it before placing it to rest on Sasuke’s forehead.

Crickets chirr inside the tall grass.

“So,” Naruto starts. “What’s...your brother like?”

Sasuke blinks. He turns. Now it’s Naruto who’s busy with the sky.

Sasuke looks down a moment, the way his ankle rests against his thigh, Naruto’s legs splayed out beside him. His gaze wanders. In the night, Naruto’s hair looks almost flaxen.

“I dunno.” Sasuke shrugs. “Quiet?”

Naruto nods importantly. “Kinda like you, huh?”

“My mom,” mentions Sasuke. “She was quiet, too.”

Naruto turns his neck to look at him.

“Was...?”

Sasuke shrugs one shoulder.

“Well, my mom…” Naruto starts, so faint it’s almost furtive. “She wasn’t quiet. But my dad was. At least, that’s what my grandma tells me.” He smiles. “I think our moms would’ve… I dunno, gotten along, right?”

“Maybe.”

Wind, cars dashing by across the distant road. Sasuke feels his heartbeat choking near his throat, the quiet tapping of his fingers.

“Hey, Sasuke?” It’s dozy.

“What.”

Nothing.

Sasuke sneaks a careful glance from the corner of his eye.

Parted mouth and snoring. Out cold.

“Hn. Loser.”

He looks back to the sky. Then he looks again at Naruto. _Really_ looks at Naruto...

Sasuke doesn’t look away. And realizes, he wouldn’t want to.

**oOo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's it. our two little shits. thank you so much to everyone who's read♡


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